


Gone Again

by aron_kristina



Category: Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Genre: Community: ladiesbigbang, Gen, Post-Canon, Reflection, Winter, based on fanmix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-17
Updated: 2011-10-17
Packaged: 2017-10-24 17:38:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/266119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aron_kristina/pseuds/aron_kristina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is a grave with five names on it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gone Again

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a complement for Zoahm's Ladies Big Bang fanmix [Buried in Snow](http://zoamh.dreamwidth.org/135278.html). It gave me some new favorites and I think it will you too. She's also made other mixes for Ladies Big Bang: [check out her masterpost.](http://zoamh.dreamwidth.org/2011/10/16/)
> 
> I was a day late in finishing my complement, and for that I apologize. Sorry, dear zoamh.
> 
> Beta'd by C.

There is a grave in a small graveyard. It’s nothing especially big or fancy, a headstone made out of grey stone, with gold lettering on it. She’s the only one who comes here now. She could have had company, any number of people who would escort her, stand beside her, but she wants to be alone

She's old now, for real. She won't come back from it this time, won't go through some kind of magical wardrobe and be young again. The only thing left now is death, and she thinks that it might not be such a bad thing. It's a comforting thought now, not a longing, but she's ready for that day. She's done all the things she had planned for, she's had children and grandchildren, enough for all four of them.

She used to be so angry, angry at them for dying, angry at being left behind, angry at the world who didn't understand, which thought her fragile. Not even when she had cried until she couldn’t breathe had she felt fragile.

She’s not angry anymore. Death is the only certain thing, and what she feels now is grief. Because they had been so young. Because she had been left behind. It’s been such a long time, but it doesn’t lessen, the grief. She’s just forgotten, how Lucy used to smile, how Peter tried to be grown-up and responsible, how Edmund played tricks on her. How they used to argue with her, think that she was boring, how they stood united against he world. Sometimes she sees something, the hint of a smile, messy brown hair on a young boy, children who have had to grow up too fast.

She puts flowers, even though she never knows what kind to get, because it’s what you’re supposed to do. Flowers go on graves. It’s a pointless symbol, but it makes her feel better. Roses on birthdays, something colourful in the summer and periwinkle in the winter. She had decided on these flowers, forced them to become a tradition. The evergreen is so bright against the snow, everything else is monochrome, the headstones, the sky. She’s alone in the graveyard. It’s an old graveyard, just as she’s an old woman, and not many people know anyone buried here anymore.

She will go home, and she will come back next week, and maybe the week after that. Soon though, there will not be a lonesome visitor to this grave anymore, just a headstone with six names and two dates.


End file.
